Potions Class

The Potions classroom was located in the castle's underground, which Edmund guessed was for the convenient storage of potions and potion ingredients.

This time, he and Travers were finally among the first students to arrive at the classroom, allowing them to choose seats closer to the teacher and have time to take a good look at the bottles and jars around them.

As mentioned above, Edmund didn't like metal containers. Fortunately, he wasn't so sensitive as to resonate with the corpses of various magical creatures inside the jars. Edmund curiously circled around twice, expressing amazement at the potion ingredients of various colors and strange shapes.

"Being a potions professor must be tough," Edmund sighed, feigning concern. "You need to stockpile so many magical ingredients—if they're not stored properly, the potions you make will probably be affected."

He looked at Professor Slughorn knowingly, implying that he could bring in an investment to replace the "improperly stored" potion ingredients.

As for what he wants? As a first-year student, he naturally just wants some "convenience" and "favor"!

When their eyes met, the old professor, who was as shrew as a walrus, was first startled by those Dumbledore-like eyes; then he smiled knowingly.

While the two Slytherins, one old and one young, exchanged unspoken words, the other students gradually arrived at the Potions classroom. The Slytherin siblings, Mulce and Slughorn, were quite unhappy about having to attend both Thursday classes with Gryffindors, and huddled together with Travers, who was being ignored by the professor, whispering amongst themselves. Their whispers were loud, clearly an attempt to attract the Headmaster's attention, but Slughorn seemed deaf to their pleas.

As Lily Evans and Snape entered the classroom, another unsettling chuckle erupted from the Slytherin side. Lily looked somewhat bewildered, and Snape seemed a little uncomfortable as well. The other two Gryffindor girls and Pollyanna followed closely behind, and the last to enter the classroom were the Gryffindor quartet led by Potter and Black.

"That's wonderful, little wizards!"

Slughorn clapped his hands happily when everyone arrived. Considering his size, the scene was utterly endearing.

"No one was late on the first day, so it seems there aren't any fools among you who mistakenly believe potions aren't magic—well, even if there are, I suggest you don't show it. Because if you're not exactly smart, the first thing you need to learn is how to hide your stupidity."

The remark was slightly sarcastic, but the old wizard's tone was quite playful. His attitude was somewhat like that of the lively and kind Professor Hecate, which ironically won him some favor with Gryffindor.

"Welcome to this Potions class, filled with miracles and their unique scent! Ladies and gentlemen, please pair up and choose a table you like." Slughorn flipped through the student roster, his eyes growing brighter. "Here, we don't attract attention by waving wands; stirring, boiling, precise dosages… sounds pretty boring, doesn't it?"

Slughorn looked toward Gryffindor and immediately recognized the eldest son of the Black family. His walrus-like beard twitched slyly.

"This sounds like a tedious and repetitive task. Why not let house-elves brew potions for us? — Has any of you ever thought of that?"

Edmund smiled sheepishly, while Sirius was completely unimpressed; Lily turned to Snape and whispered: What is a house-elf?

"If so, don't worry. I won't blame you for underestimating this complex and delicate subject due to a lack of experience."

Slughorn looked at the students who clearly had house-elves at home with a kind expression.

"Actually, to master potions, you not only need extremely high concentration and accurate judgment; in addition, you also need some clever ideas, a bit of persistence and passion... and an urgent determination to change the status quo." Professor Slughorn spoke the last sentence softly and quickly, as if afraid of disturbing something.

"Therefore, I will now lead you into another world. Here, the degree to which herbs are dried out will determine whether you become a hero of the academy or a laughingstock. Sounds a bit cruel, doesn't it? But this is the reality of Potions—with just a drop of potion, you can go from an unknown nobody to a legendary figure who will be remembered in history."

Slughorn rubbed his palms together with an inscrutable expression.

"As for whether it's because you saved countless poor souls suffering from strange diseases, or because you dissolved a pool of corpses... haha, that's up to you!"

"I hope you'll see Potions as a wonderful art—a lovely subject that will absolutely respond to your passion and the quirky ideas in your little heads!"

"She can lead you to great heights, or she can take your life in a moment of carelessness. That's why, young wizards, please open your textbooks and study the instructions carefully. Today we'll be concocting a very simple scabies treatment, but if done incorrectly, it can leave you with a face full of welts!"

Slughorn's teaching style was indeed very Slytherin. He seemingly casually emphasized the achievements that potions could bring to wizards, as well as their undeniable destructive power. After these words, Edmund clearly felt that the young wizards in his house were all invigorated, and they all buried themselves in their studies, as if wealth and fame were churning and floating in a cauldron, waiting for them to grab them.

After the pre-class preparation was over, Professor Slughorn personally demonstrated how to grind a snake's fangs and how to cook a slug with tentacles to what extent... Finally, the old professor asked the students to try it out in practice.

"It's not as difficult as it looks," Old Slytherin chuckled. "This was your first Potions class... Ah, how memorable! I still remember the excitement of successfully brewing my first potion! Here's what we'll do: every student who can brew a healing potion can take their creation home as a souvenir!"

These words particularly inspired two girls from Muggle families, Lily Evans and Mary McDonald. Unlike their classmates, who all had at least one wizard parent, they were intrigued by the potion that could quickly cure scabies, as it sounded like a very useful gift.

Meanwhile, just as Edmund was about to pick up the silver knife on the table, a gruff male voice interrupted him:

"Hey, Travers, come join my team." It was Miles Avery from the same ward speaking. "I don't want to be with this clumsy cripple; she'll hold me back."

Edmund was taken aback by these words. He'd seen people with low emotional intelligence before, but never anyone with this low emotional intelligence...

He immediately turned to look at the girl who had been called "crippled" by her classmates, as if he didn't want to miss out on a good show. He saw that Pollyanna Cobblestone remained indifferent, seemingly unmoved.

If it weren't for her bright red ears and taut jaw betraying her emotions, Edmund would have thought she had been a butcher somewhere and was now heartless.

But that's not important. What's important is that Edmund is also getting tired of Travers. This roommate is just too noisy; he'd rather spend time with other people his own age than with this guy.

"That sounds good, Travers. Since Eric needs your help, why don't you go and help the student in trouble?"

Completely ignoring Avery's disgruntled shout, "You got my name wrong!", Edmund naturally walked over to Pollyanna and discussed the division of labor with her.

The girl's expression remained indifferent, but she obediently accepted Edmund's arrangement, agreeing to take charge of cooking... oh no, she agreed that she would be in charge of stirring from now on.

Edmund benefited from this, as he was spared the need to handle steam and crucibles. He took on almost all the other tasks, performing everything meticulously, from weighing to cutting. Pollyanna also proved with her rigorous attitude and standard procedures that she was not "crippled." On the contrary, their team quickly produced a perfect scabies solution, except for its slightly pale color, following the steps in the book exactly.

Seeing this, Slughorn immediately strolled over from the accident-prone Avery group, his face beaming with joy:

"Perfect—precise control! Absolutely flawless! Well done, Edmund! Let me see, the timing of the porcupine quills was just right. You must be Miss Cobblepot? Your uncle works in the Department of Magical Transportation, right? You did a fantastic job; I guess I have to give Slytherin an extra two points!"

Seeing this, several Slytherins looked on with envy, while a few boos came from James and Black's table.

Edmund looked at Jaime and saw the boy make a face at him before being poked by Black and looking down. The two hadn't finished their homework, and the potion's color looked ominous.

Professor Slughorn chuckled and shook his head. Just as he was about to go over and tutor the two, a strange smell wafted over. Before the students could react, Slughorn abruptly looked towards the source of the scent. Then, as if his soul had been hooked, the old wizard swiftly floated to the red and green duo.

"..."

Slughorn stared at the pot of freshly brewed potion with a strange, restrained, and solemn expression. The potion's owner stirred uneasily, startling the old professor.

"...Perfect." The old man blinked incredulously, as if he couldn't understand how this had happened. "Perfect?!—Oh dear, oh dear!"

His sweet smile was gone, and even his voice was much softer. But even from just a glimpse of his profile, Edmund could sense the greed in his eyes.

Greed for talent, and for those who possess talent.

"A perfect potion," Slughorn said succinctly. Evans and Snape exchanged a surprised glance. "Sir, Madam, I must add five points to your score each, for you have far exceeded my expectations."

"And, my dear children, could you tell me your names?"

"I believe your future is limitless... truly limitless!"